


Hey

by HeyItsJJ



Series: Hey [1]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Katya-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Violet is a good friend, pre-Trixya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 04:17:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14072733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyItsJJ/pseuds/HeyItsJJ
Summary: It's been a while since Katya and Trixie have spoken. But it's fine. Really. It's okay. It's fine.(It's not)





	Hey

**Author's Note:**

> Short lil’ Trixya thing I’ve had in my mind for a while now (even tho there’s barely any Trixie in it LOL). A lil' angsty. Mostly Katya-centric and Katya/Violet friendship-centric. Drag names are used but with male pronouns (except Violet, of course, has gender-neutral pronouns).
> 
> Also I 100% wrote this over the summer so there's some things here that are no longer accurate and/or relevant but hey we're gonna let that slide LOLOLOL.

“Okay… so… how long, EXACTLY, has it been since you last spoke to him…?”

Katya sighed and refused to look at the computer screen where Violet’s no-doubt judgemental face could be seen.

“I dunno. Little while. Not that long.” He dared sneak a glance and immediately regretted it as he was met with one of Violet’s admittedly perfect eye rolls.

“Bitch you didn’t even wish him a happy birthday. The entirety of the Internet freaked the fuck out. I was surprised some dumbass hashtag wasn’t trending because of it. #RIPTrixya or something. #KatyaKilledTrixya. Endless possibilities.”

“Hey!” Katya gasped indignantly, “Just because I didn’t wish him a public happy birthday on social media does not mean I didn’t wish him a happy birthday at all! I sent him a lovely text right at midnight.

“And besides!” he continued, “Fans are so over-dramatic. We have a show coming out soon. How can anyone think we had a falling out. Jesus.”

“You done yet?” Violet asked. Katya shot them an annoyed look.

“I am just saying,” Violet continued, “that it’s a little suspish. And I mean, really? A text? Not even FaceTime or a phone call? Seriously, Katya, what’s wrong?” Violet’s voice betrayed their stone-cold bitch persona, genuinely concerned for their friend.

Katya started to deny any reason for concern but stopped himself. Shoulders slumped and looking totally defeated, he looked away from Violet’s prying eyes and focused on picking a hangnail.

“It’s hard now.” He whispered.

“What’s hard?” Violet prompted.

“My dick,” Katya replies instantaneously, always turning to humour when the things get a little too serious for his liking.

“Katya I swear to God…” Violet sighs impatiently.

“Okay okay sorry.” Katya giggles nervously, eyes darting all over the place.

Silence.

“Katya if you don’t start talking soon I swear to God I will—”

“Okay!” Katya snaps, cutting Violet off. He takes a deep breath.

“It’s hard now—”

“You already said that.”

“If you don’t let me finish I am ending this call right now.” Katya threatened.

“By all means, continue.” Violet says, smirking.

“It's… like… ugh! I don’t know!” Katya growls, frustrated.

“Just do what you always do and let the word vomit happen. I’m sure I’ll catch the gist.” Violet suggests.

“Okay. So. Like. You know how part of our whole dynamic is that ongoing joke about me wanting to fuck him and him always denying me? It’s fun, right? I always thought so. Going off on those tangents was always such a gas and one of my favourite parts of all my sets. But like. Lately I don’t find it so much fun. It’s like I feel sick every time I start and then I end up going off of my usual script and saying stupid shit like ‘I wish he were my boyfriend’ or something and JESUS. I don’t know. It makes me upset now. Like we’ve gone from ‘ha ha he’ll never fuck me but I’ll sure die trying!’ to ‘wow this is really never gonna happen huh I wonder why I’m not good enough.’” He finishes with a deep sigh and waits for Violet to respond. He fully expects for them to laugh and comment on how silly this was and tell him to just get over it and move on.

What he’s not expecting is for Violet to remain quiet and stare intensely at what he assumes is his face on their screen. There’s a bit of something (excitement? hope?) in their eyes and Katya doesn’t know what’s happening. If it weren’t for Violet’s chest moving as they breathed he would have thought the connection had been frozen.

“Vi? You gonna say something?”

“You’re not done. I’m waiting for you to finish.” Violet replies quickly.

“Um. What?” Katya asks lamely.

“Your word vomit. You’re not done. There’s more. I’m waiting.”

“No? There’s not?” Katya is desperately trying to figure out what’s happening but comes up blank.

“Jesus Christ do not make me spell it out for y—” before they could continue, someone calls out Violet’s name and they look over their computer at whoever it is.

“Listen, I gotta go. I’m up soon. Call me back when you figure your fucking shit out.”

Before Katya can even begin to formulate a response, the call is disconnected.

***************

Katya tries his best to go to sleep, but it turns out to be impossible. He keeps going over his conversation with Violet in his head, trying to make sense of it all.

He sighs deeply and turns over in his bed, reaching for his phone. Normally, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d text Trixie a multitude of weird facts and random thoughts. The other man would usually be sound asleep but would always reply as soon as he woke up, usually with a simple “Katya what the fuck” before individually commenting on every text he received.

Normally.

But try as he might, Katya can’t bring himself to text Trixie. Hasn’t been able to for weeks now. It’s weird. He’s used to texting back and forth every day, even when they’re on opposite sides of the world. Sure, replies may be hours apart, but they still make it work.

He wonders if Trixie realizes they haven’t texted about anything other than the necessary reasons (such as their upcoming show) for going on three weeks now.

Probably not.

Katya opens up their conversation thread and types a simple _you awake?_

He quickly deletes it, sounding too much like a booty call.

_hey Tracy it’s your mom_

Delete.

_you would not believe what I saw this afternoon walking down my neighbourhood_

Delete.

_are you still being a good person and honouring your NDA or can we talk about AS3 now_

Delete.

_I miss you._

Delete.

_do you miss me?_

Delete.

_you know it’s weird it’s like I can’t breathe lately and I wonder if it has anything to do with us not talking ha ha ha_

Delete.

_do you realize how long it’s been since we’ve spoken_

_I don’t really know how to live my everyday life when you’re not a part of it_

_Jesus Christ do you even care_

_fuck you_

_I hate you_

Delete.

Delete.

Delete.

Delete.

DELETE.

He turns his phone off and shoves it underneath his comforter, deep at the bottom of the bed.

And suddenly breathing is very hard.

He tries to catch a breath but finds it impossible. He realizes he’s shaking and tries even harder to calm down. It’s been a while since he had a panic attack. He’s not sure he even knows how to deal with a panic attack any more.

Because he always calls Trixie whenever he thinks he can feel one coming on.

But that’s not really an option at the moment.

“Come on, Katya, put that fucking yoga training to use.” He tells himself, trying to take deep breaths.

It takes a while, definitely much longer than in the past, but he finally manages to calm down. Well. His breathing is still shaky and his hands still tremble slightly, but at least it no longer feels as if he’s about to die.

He turns his computer on, opens Skype, and hopes Violet is available.

_Violet Chachki is offline._

Damn.

He types a quick _911_ in the chat box and, almost immediately after hitting “SEND,” hears the familiar tone of an incoming call.

“What’s up, slut?” Violet greets him, a light teasing tone to their voice.

“Figured it out.” He replies numbly.

“Mmm figured what out?”

Okay now they’re just being a little cruel.

“That um. That. That I…”

“…are stupidly in love with one Trixie Mattel and want to father his biologically impossible babies?” Violet offers helpfully.

“Yeah that’d be it.” Katya whispers.

“And what are you gonna do about it.”

Katya snaps his head up so quickly it’s a miracle he doesn’t cause whiplash.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I am going to bury this deep deep DEEP down and never mention it ever.”

Violet rolls their eyes.

“So you came to this grand conclusion for what, exactly?”

“Well now I know. So I can hide it.”

Violet is about to reply when Katya cuts them off.

“We have a show coming up, Violet. We’ve built this little niche together. We are a business. I can’t let anything get in the way of that. I can’t do that to him.” Tears prick at his eyes and he can feel his breathing becoming elevated once again.

“Don’t you fucking dare freak out on me.”

Well. That’s certainly a different approach from Trixie’s gentle comfort. But if it works it works.

“Listen to me, Katya, because I am only going to say this once. You’d have to be fucking blind to not see the way Trixie looks at you. Like you hang the fucking moon. And yes I am aware of the fact that platonic love is very real and platonic soulmates are a thing but TRUST me when I say you two are so much more than that. It might’ve started out platonic, sure, but it has definitely grown into something so much bigger. You just weren’t ready. And now you are. So I am going to ask you one more time. What. are. you. going. to. do. about. it.”

Katya takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly and shakily.

“Something really stupid,“ he replies.

Violet grins.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

***************

Okay so in retrospect hauling ass to Trixie’s place at four o’clock in the morning probably wasn’t the best idea.

But here he is.

He’s been ringing the doorbell and knocking for the past seven minutes and is seriously considering just hunkering down against the door and sleeping until Trixie finds him later on in the morning when he hears his angry voice from the other side of the door, closer with every word.

“I swear to God this better be a fucking emergency or if you’re here to murder me you better get it right on the first try because I am pissed the fuck off right now and could probably kill a man!”

The door is swung open angrily.

Trixie’s angry face quickly turns to one of shock.

Katya smiles shyly.

They stare at each other.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

**Author's Note:**

> I welcome (and would actually really appreciate) any and all constructive criticism, please!
> 
> Thank-you so much for reading!


End file.
